


His path

by Anonymous



Category: The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Alternate Universe, Fic Exchange, M/M, Suggestive Themes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-15
Updated: 2019-07-15
Packaged: 2020-06-28 16:46:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 761
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19816381
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: In the moment of loneliness Maglor ponders on his past.





	His path

**Author's Note:**

  * For [elvntari](https://archiveofourown.org/users/elvntari/gifts).



The stars kept beckoning him, and this night was not an exception. When had he become so obsessed with them? He did not know. Yet every night his eyes, having forgotten how to sleep, were drawn to the darkness of the sky. That one, Gil Estel seemed to mock him as if asking,  _ What did you do to yourself, you, once of a proud kin? What did you do? Do you remember? _

He remembered. Lying in the dense grass, listening to the wind, all alone, he recollected all those whom he treasured and whom he had lost.

His father, dead, and his accursed Oath, that had brought them so much woe. His brothers, lost and slain in their endless strife. And the one who brought some light onto this path of darkness. With this thought he closed his eyes, evading the dark sky’s grasp, to picture those hair, those eyes. Daeron. His dear friend, his all.

_ Do you wander under the same stars? _

He hoped with all his heart. At the thought that Daeron might be out there, somewhere, anywhere, he felt warmth in his chest. 

_ Will we ever meet again? _

He did not know. And for this he dared not hope. His doom followed him and he did not want it to cast its shadow on Daeron, like for those who had misfortuned to stand unwillingly on his kinsmen’s path. Driving away all thought about any possible future meeting, he instead relished their past, reliving the moments that were most dear to him.

***

It happened at Mereth Aderthad, the ‘Feast of Reuniting’, where Fingolfin sought to calm their strife and soothe the discord among them that had become a common companion for many of the First-born. Weary and grim, Maglor arrived at Himring to restore some ties broken by the deeds of his kinsmen, and perhaps to get some respite from his fruitless wanderings, for anything that could distract him.

All gathered in the main hall, around long tables with fruits and wine, dancing, singing and exchanging tidings - the atmosphere his crestfallen heart longed for. A remnant of a life he once had in the Undying Lands. Suddenly reluctant to approach Fingolfin, he wandered without aim among the merrymaking folk, skimming through their faces in hope for something, he did not know what. A friendly smile, a kind look, anything he could take as a sign of acceptance. Yet, everyone seemed polite but distant to the son of Feanor as they met his glance. He began to fear that the guests shunned him, for his burden might have left an imprint on his face. 

But before he could despair, his eyes met a most peculiar green gaze and he lingered upon it. The man gave him such a warm smile that Maglor cast away his hesitation. He merely intended to exchange casual pleasantries with the stranger at first, just to remember how it felt to be with company again.  But the stranger showed more than mere courtesy; he was charming and sincere, and displayed neither judgement nor reproach. Maglor remembered his name: Daeron. He came from Thingol’s court. Mutual love for music loosened Maglor’s tongue and the time spent talking to Daeron passed faster than he expected. When night arrived they had to part and Maglor was most reluctant. For some reason he wanted to believe so was Daeron. At that point he did not know why it mattered so much for him. The understanding came later. Had he ever considered their bond? The only thing he knew is that he accepted it with joy and a desperate hunger..

Before those musings lay countless nights when they sang together under the moon and under the sun, or listened to each other playing their newly composed pieces, or just talked about music and anything that could touch a fellow musician’s soul. Then he thought he could not find any friend better than Daeron but it turned to be more than that, much more. Back then he thought the doom that pursued all Fëanorians had released him from its grip, if only for those blissful times when they were together.

***

What he would give to experience that day in Himring once more… Or any day together with Daeron. Now reminiscence was all that was left for him. With that thought his tired mind surrendered to a light unquiet sleep for a couple of pre-dawn hours. The road East awaited him. What would he find there, what awaited him, he did not know and did not desire to. His fate led him forth.

  
  
  



End file.
